


Grave Truths

by Amahami



Series: All Around Us [7]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eavesdropping, Ed is dying, Gen, Illnesses, POV Riza Hawkeye, Sick Edward Elric, Undercover, ed does not die in this fic, trisha's illness was hereditary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amahami/pseuds/Amahami
Summary: Hawkeye accidentally overhears Ed discussing his test results over the phone with Mrs. Curtis, and finds out he's ill.More information is required before she can figure out how to help him.(Aka Hawkeye goes snooping with Mustang and they don't like what they find)
Relationships: Edward Elric & Riza Hawkeye, No Romantic Relationship(s), Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang
Series: All Around Us [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858846
Comments: 46
Kudos: 192





	1. initial discovery

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to [memoriesofrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/memoriesofrain) for leaving comments that finally got me through the scenes I was stuck on.
> 
> Thank you as always to [Shilo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364) for betaing, and to the 99% Snipers discord for encouragement and characterisation concrit.
> 
> I've finally realised that since my beta isn't familiar with FMA, I need people to read through and give me characterisation feedback for each fic. I've made a form if you're interested in providing that — it has more questions than necessary, mostly to weed out spam. [Here's the link.](https://forms.app/form/5f52c59166a26237557e02b5)
> 
> Okay, enough announcements. On with the show!

When Edward entered the office by kicking the door in, Hawkeye looked up from the paperwork she was reading through and gave him an exasperated look of disapproval.

"The Colonel is in a late-running meeting right now, but he'll be with you in twenty minutes. In the meantime, I recommend you call Mrs. Izumi Curtis; she left a message with us last week demanding you call her at your earliest convenience." Hawkeye kept her voice official and her face neutral. 

Normally, she'd disapprove of family and friends using the military to pass messages on like that, but it was a relief to know that somebody outside the military had an active interest in Edward.

The blood drained from Ed's face and he sprinted out of the room before she could so much as blink.

The other men in the room stared at the door in silence. 

Hawkeye stood up and unclipped her primary gun's holster. "Havoc, hold down the fort," she ordered, jogging out of the room.

"Yes, sir," she heard Havoc say as she exited the room.

Hawkeye caught up with Ed at the public phone booth near the command centre. He was facing away from her in the booth, so she went unnoticed.

The door to the booth was ajar so Ed's voice drifted out clearly.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, clearly worried. 

After a moment, he cringed. "Oh, right. I forgot all about those." A pause, then, "Okay."

Ed started humming a tune, and Hawkeye put her back to the booth and stood guard, hand on her gun, face blank.

Ed stopped humming. After a moment, he said, surprised, "Really? Which ones? Wait, lemme guess: arm and ribs?"

Ed made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, which had Hawkeye looking over her shoulder to ensure he was safe.

"I've broken my femur?" Ed squeaked after a moment. "How the  _ fuck _ ?"

_ How the fuck _ indeed, Hawkeye thought. Those were some of the most difficult bones to break, if memory served.

"Well, it's been months, and I still have my automail on, and I didn't even know it had ever  _ been _ broken, so I'm sure it's fine. It's not like it was actually broken then, anyway,“ he said petulantly.

Ed was silent for a few minutes as he listened to the other end. He burst out laughing and startled Hawkeye enough that she twitched her gun out several millimeters before she got control of her response.

"My spine looks like  _ what _ ?" Ed finally asked. 

A pause. "That's amazing." He took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Okay, and what about the bloodwork?"

There went any plausible deniability about what the call was about. Damn. Hopefully Mustang wouldn't ask Edward's health before she figured out what to do.

"As in sexual transmitted disease?" Ed asked incredulously, stifling chuckles. "I don't know  _ why _ he'd test for those, but okay."

Another deep breath. Hawkeye followed along, needing some fortification, herself.

"Okay, I'm good. You can continue."

Hawkeye lamented how quickly she'd followed Edward, for winter was fast approaching and the temperature reflected that.

She was cold. It at least didn't make her twitchy like the heat did. But this wasn't the time or place to think about that, so she just boxed those thoughts right up and focused on the task at hand.

"Yeah, yeah," Ed said placatingly, "The pneumonia went away months ago. I took all the antibiotics for it and everything. I haven't coughed like that in at least ten weeks."

Ed had had  _ pneumonia? _ How did they miss something so  _ obvious? _ What kind of comrades  _ were _ they?

"Okay, makes sense."

Hawkeye was going to need to reevaluate the whole team's observation skills, including her own. This was unacceptable.

"I rarely get sick, though," Ed said, voice thick with confusion. "How could my immune system possibly be so bad?"

Ed began to tap his metal fingers against the little table in the booth, making little  _ tings _ .

"So what does all that mean? Does he know what I have?"

Was Ed still sick? Hawkeye analysed every second she'd seen him that day. Even looking back she couldn't see anything unusual. Huh.

"And that would be…" 

There was a pause, then a snort. "You really expect me to believe-- Ha! Sure, okay, and you have smallpox." 

Smallpox was eradicated in Amestris 150 years prior.

After a few moments, Ed continued. "I can't do any research on it since me ʾn Al are so close. Could you do it for me?"

A short pause. "Thanks. Any hints of a cure?"

Ed sighed. "Of course not. Well, thanks for the update, Teacher. I'll call you back in a month to check in?"

"Thanks, Teacher. How are you?" Ed's voice was soft in a way Hawkeye had never heard, but it didn't last long.

"Okay, okay! I'll get back to work, too. Be safe," he said. "Bye."

Ed hung up the phone and exited the phone booth and froze upon seeing Hawkeye. She didn't move or make any indication that she noticed his attention.

"Did you hear my conversation?" Ed asked slowly.

Hawkeye turned to face him, then. "Those doors make the booth soundproof when they're closed." Not an answer, but not a lie.

Ed sighed and his shoulders slumped in relief. "What're you doing out here, anyway?" he asked as he started the walk back to Command.

Hawkeye followed suit, keeping her steps small to make her pace even with the teenager's.

"I was concerned about you, since you ran out so quickly," she said after a moment of sifting through possible answers.

Ed nodded. "Alright. Any idea what the bastard wants from me?"

Hawkeye's lips twitched downwards in disapproval. In the relative safety of their office, it was one thing to refer to a higher ranking officer like that, but here, out in the open?

She mentally sighed.

"No, I don't, though it's likely another mission."

Ed hummed his agreement and they walked silently the rest of the way back to the office.

As soon as she made it back to her desk, Hawkeye settled in to do more paperwork. 

Once a few minutes had passed, she flipped to a fresh page in her notes and began to jot down everything she heard in coded shorthand to worry about later.

She had entirely too much work to do to be able to think through possible actions.

That was just something she'd have to do later. 

Something she did have to do then, however, was sort through the Colonel's most recent stack of completed documents.

While she was flipping through, she saw a small paper scrap. "Lorenzo's" was written on it in fine, black ink.

It seemed the Colonel had something to share with her. Hopefully he'd leave enough time for her to share her own information.

She tucked the slip into a small stack of paperwork that the Colonel needed to complete before lunch before standing to deliver the stack to him.

"These need to be completed before lunch, sir," Hawkeye said as she entered the room Edward was just leaving.

The colonel was pale. He nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Lieutenant."

Once she set the pages down on his desk, she briskly returned to her own desk.

The day was long, and she spent her lunch hour writing out possible plans in her coded shorthand.

Soon enough she found herself in her casual wear with her hair down in Roy's car. 

"Thank you for joining me tonight, Elizabeth," he said, voice as slick as his hair.

Riza smiled. "Thank you for asking me out, Roy. I was about ready to ask you out, myself," she said, informing him that she had her own forthcoming information.

Roy's eyebrows kissed his hairline as he continued manoeuvring through dinnertime traffic.

"Really, now?" he asked once he was settled in a lane. He glanced over to her, a neutral smile on his face. 

Riza shrugged. "Needed more of you in my life, I suppose."  _ Needed to give you this info away from everyone else. _

"Glad we're on the same page."  _ What the hell are you talking about? _

Riza grinned before telling Roy, "I'm glad we're eating at Lorenzo's; their portions are to  _ die _ for."  _ I spent my lunch hour sorting through this bullshit and I'm starved. _

"I've missed their chocolate lava cake. I don't believe you've tried it before. I won't share mine, Elizabeth, so if you want to try some you'll have to get your own," Roy said as they crossed yet another large street, finally reaching the rundown side of town.

_ I need something good in my life after hearing this info, and you will too. _

They reached Lorenzo's shortly thereafter, and they settled into a barely lighted booth in the party area in the back.

Once their orders were in, they got down to business.

"Edward's dying," Roy said bluntly, leaning close to meet Riza halfway across the table.

Riza jerked back in horrified surprise. After a moment she replied, "He apparently has some illness that's causing his immune system to plummet."

"Huh," Roy said. "He's in a lot of pain, and he has a doctor prescribing him pain killers to help him hide the illness from Alphonse."

Roy held up a finger as the server came back with their drinks. Once the server had left again, he continued, "Since he's not really in the area of the doctor, he's buying them on the black market."

Riza grimaced. "It could be tainted."

Roy tilted his head from one shoulder to the other. "Not this time. He bought from my sister."

Riza's eyebrows went up. She blinked at him a couple times.

After a moment, she pulled her notes out. "Our first priority is confirming he is sick and what he has."

"Absolutely," Roy said. "Then we need to find the cure."

While Roy definitely seemed unrealistically optimistic, he wasn't  _ wrong _ . They  _ did _ need to do research on Ed's illness and figure out every treatment option available.

"Okay, I'll call Mrs. Curtis tomorrow morning and request Edward's medical information, and we can go from there."

The server came to deliver their food, and they dug in.

They continued discussing the smaller details throughout dinner, and when the time came for dessert, they both needed it.

It was just as delicious as Roy had promised.

_____

Hawkeye left early for work the following morning, walking briskly to a public phone several blocks away.

"Curtis Meats, Mason speaking."

"Hello, this is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye calling for Mrs. Izumi Curtis. Is she available?" She kept her voice light, nonthreatening, and non-urgent.

"Uh… I think so? If she is I'll bring her on the line. Please hold on."

"Sure," she said, and she could hear the phone being set down.

A couple minutes (and 200 cenz) later, she picked up.

"Izumi Curtis speaking."

"Hello Mrs. Curtis, this is Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. I'm calling to ask about Edward Elric's medical reports."

"Is he okay?" Mrs. Curtis asked slowly.

"As far as I know," Riza replied. She tapped a finger against the glass of the phone box.

"You'll have to ask his doctor. Good day."

The line disconnected. Riza sighed and replaced the handset to the cradle.

_ Plan B, then. _


	2. Medical Records

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang and Hawkeye visit Dr. Shoko is Yoewap to get Ed's medical records. Hawkeye's on-edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so many issues with this chapter, and I am still unhappy with it, but my week is up so i'm tossing it into the void for you folks.

Yoewap was a small town, or a big village, depending on who you asked. If you asked her, Hawkeye would say it was a small town, since there were distinct slums.

She walked just behind the Colonel through the streets from the train to Yoewap's hospital/clinic. It didn't look busy, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief; if it had been busy, they would have had to come back another day.

As it was, they had to wait almost two hours in the waiting room before Doctor Shoko could see them. Hawkeye was glad she'd brought so much paperwork with them, so she and the Colonel could be productive instead of twiddling their thumbs and glaring at the plain cream walls. (Always cream walls. Why were they always  _ cream? _ )

The doctor led them through a maze of hallways to an empty exam room. Once there, the Colonel handed the folder of paperwork in his hands to the doctor. 

"Here are the official documents confirming my authority to Edward Elric, as well as the claim to his medical records and a request for secrecy," the Colonel said. He pulled his pocketwatch out to confirm his identity to the doctor.

Dr. Shoko took the paperwork then sat down at the tiny desk against one cream-coloured wall and read through the documents carefully. Mustang and Hawkeye remained standing, studying the doctor and the room around them.

The walls were different shades of cream -- again with the cream! What was wrong with colour? Was it as distracting as bare shoulders were to teenage boys? -- and Hawkeye was pretty sure she saw a few crude penises scratched into the wall near the exam table.

Her eyes followed the sunlight exposing the phallic vandalism to the window. Its shade was up, showing off someone's garden.

She looked to the closed door pointedly, then to Mustang, back to the unprotected window, and back to him. Nobody had been able to find blueprints of the building, so she didn't know where the blindspots were, or the good vantage points, or the best escape routes. It made her hands itch to hold her gun, to be prepared for any unseen assailants.

Mustang's head twitched in a  _ no _ motion -- she was not allowed to scope out the hallway or the garden beyond the window. If she left the Colonel's side, he'd be completely unprotected anyway, so she hadn't been about to actually leave, but… 

She walked over to the window and closed the blinds swiftly, eyes sweeping back and forth rapidly as she did.

When she turned, she glanced pointedly to the Colonel's pants, and he obligingly stuck his left hand, the one the doctor would be unable to see even if he turned around, into his pocket and easily slid his glove on.

Hawkeye returned to her position next to the door. Mustang nodded slightly to confirm to her that the glove was on his hand. She nodded her thanks. 

She still felt antsy with so many unknowns and so few comrades, but knowing that the Colonel was at least somewhat prepared was a significant relief.

The minutes passed like pitch down a ski slope, Hawkeye focusing only on the Colonel's safety and to keeping her hands by her sides instead of at her holsters. 

The doctor finally finished reading and said, "Alrighty! That's all in order. Let me go get you a copy of those files. I'll be back in just a moment."

The man stood from the rolling stool and hurried out the door, white coat sweeping behind him.

He was gone less than a minute and upon return handed the Colonel a thick packet of documents. "I included some information on what the results of his testing means, as well as the information you requested. I hope you'll be able to help him in the way you claim."

Hawkeye and the Colonel both nodded, but it was Hawkeye who spoke up. "We'll do our best, Doctor. Thank you for your time and dedication."

Dr. Shoko nodded and turned to the door to lead them out.

"Actually," the Colonel said, halting the doctor's steps, "one more thing, if it's not a bother; could you please write Fullmetal a few months of his long-term prescriptions? He can't get over here for consistent appointments due to his constant traveling."

Dr. Shoko's eyebrows went up and his eyes danced; he seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Absolutely," he said. He bent over his desk and scribbled out half a dozen prescriptions. "The dates I'm writing are for the future, so Major Elric will be able to fill his prescriptions at the appropriate times, wherever he is."

Dr. Shoko handed the scripts to the Colonel. "He will still have to pick the medications up himself, Colonel," he warned.

"Of course," Mustang replied, bowing his head in thanks. He took the prescriptions and tucked them into the folder. He looked up at Hawkeye and she automatically clicked her heels together in silent acknowledgement of their immediate departure.

The doctor led them back to the waiting room and hurried off to his next appointment without a word.

"That was easier than expected," Mustang murmured once they exited the building. Hawkeye hummed in agreement, sweeping the area around them for danger.

They walked in silence the rest of the way back to the train station, Hawkeye focusing on potential threats. A train was preparing to head east back to Central, and its five minute warning horn blew noisily, startling her into pointing her gun at the poor, innocent train.

She grimaced and reholstered the gun. Mustang kindly didn't mention it.

They boarded the train and settled in for the two hour return journey, both grateful to have made the train uneventfully.

Since Hawkeye had finished all of her paperwork back in the waiting room, she swiped the folder the doctor had given the Colonel from the space next to him.

She had initially planned to begin by skimming the contents, then reading it back over more thoroughly, but she ended up staring at Edward's symptoms list in horror instead.

It was nothing short of a miracle that he could even walk, let alone fight or use complex alchemy while doing so.

Hawkeye thought back through every interaction she and Edward had had in the year prior to see if she had missed evidence of his illness.

After several minutes of examination, Hawkeye realised that she hadn't spent more than a few minutes around him at a time. She was well aware of just how easy it was to fake being fine for such a short period of time, emotionally and physically.

_ Damn. _

She'd have to watch him more carefully when she next saw him, and make sure that he stuck around long enough for her to be able to evaluate his actual pain level.

Hawkeye took a deep, slightly shuddering breath in before focusing back on reading Edward's file, albeit more slowly.

Not only did reading the file  _ not _ clear anything up, but it created even more questions. Hawkeye still had no idea what Edward was ill with, why he thought he was dying, or any possible cures or long-term treatments.

She needed to spend more time discussing with Mustang what he knew before she could work on potential lines of action. 

But that would come later. She was  _ exhausted _ and still had to finish out the day at the office.

Her cozy bed called to her, and when she and the Colonel arrived back in Central, she wanted nothing more than to change into something comfortable and spend the rest of the day relaxing in bed with a good book.

But, alas. Hawkeye  _ really _ needed to return to the office to fulfill the remainder of her daily responsibilities. 

So Hawkeye held herself stiffly, shoulders and back straight (ever the perfect soldier), as she walked with the Colonel from the train station back to Central Command.

In the office, she was surprised to find her coworkers hard at work at their desks, with an appropriate amount of work visibly completed. She allowed her pride and relief to show on her face as she stepped into the room. 

The team raised their heads in near-unison, and they smiled at her before exchanging looks that promised questions for her and the Colonel later.

But for the moment, they turned back to their work as she and the Colonel made their way back to their respective desks to do their own work.

Hawkeye finished said work after everyone had left, besides her and the Colonel. It only took her an hour of overtime, and she bid the Colonel a good night before driving herself home. She was grateful for the overtime, since it meant nobody had had time to confront her about her and the colonel's excursion.

She treated herself to a nice, long bath with her fancy bath oils while she ate her leftover lasagne.

Riza may not have been able to spend the afternoon in her bed, but at least she was able to have delicious food and enjoy a hot bath to relax before tucking herself into bed.

She'd take what she could get; tomorrow would bring yet more stress and worry. For the night, though, she could allow herself to be a sleepy puddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think (constructive criticism is welcomed for this chapter, though I request that you be kind with your phrasing)! Unhappy though I am with much of this, there were some lines I _loved_ and i'm curious what y'all liked of them, too.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Chapter three is all done, and it's more or less ready to post, so I hope to post it on Wednesday the 16th. I'll see you then!


	3. Heartbreak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawkeye and Mustang drop by Rockbell Automail for more insight about Ed's illness.
> 
> They don't like what they hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Shilo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilo1364/pseuds/shilo1364) for alpha and betaing this monstrocity (monster not for length, but for content. This entire fic was originally 3.2k and genuinely terrible), and to bean for reading over this to check my characterisation.
> 
> I do want to note real quick that Pinako has her Professional Mask on, and that she's not heartless.
> 
> Okay, that's it. Enjoy!

The next week found Hawkeye and the Colonel on the east train to Resembool. They'd be gone for three days, only one of which was a work day.

The two of them completed all the paperwork Hawkeye had packed with over an hour left on the train before they hit Kaumafy, where they'd spend the night.

She spent that hour lost in thought, considering the many possibilities this trip could hold, as well as the future. Ed's, in particular.

Once she and Mustang made it to their room (singular, because they couldn't protect each other if they took separate rooms), they went over the next day's plans while they ate hotel food.

The next morning, they took the short train ride to Resembool.

As they trekked to Rockbell Automail from the train station, the Colonel said, "Lieutenant, please keep the Rockbell girl busy while I speak to the older woman."

Hawkeye nodded firmly. She didn't want to miss the conversation, but she also didn't want Winry privy to anything she wasn't supposed to know.

The order turned out to be unnecessary, however, as Winry was apprenticing over in Rush Valley.

The tiny old woman that was Pinako Rockbell opened the door, but as soon as she saw who they were, she slammed the door in their faces.

"Yeah, I'd do the same," the Colonel admitted to the surprisingly nice door in complete honesty.

A moment passed. The door opened a crack. "What do you want?" Ms. Rockbell asked flatly.

"We want to try to help Edward in any way we can with his…" the Colonel tipped his head to the side while he considered his phrasing.

He finally settled on "illness."

Ms. Rockbell made a surprised sound and opened the door for them to come in.

"I have a patient coming in at eleven," she warned, stepping onto a stool to put the kettle on the stove.

"That's fine," the Colonel said as he stepped across the threshold. He removed his coat and Hawkeye followed suit once she stepped inside as well. 

Ms. Rockbell led them into a cozy little reception room with mint green walls covered in children's artwork. She gestured for them to sit down on one of the worn couches while she remained standing. "What do you know already?"

"We know he's sick, and that he thinks he's dying," Mustang said solemnly, lacing his hands together.

Ms. Rockbell nodded. "He is."

"Edward  _ is _ dying?" Hawkeye asked, voice hoarse and incredulous.

Ms. Rockbell nodded again, face utterly unreadable.

"Is there a cure?" Mustang asked carefully a few moments later.

"We don't even know what  _ it _ is," she admitted, pulling a pipe out of thin air. "It's the same thing that killed his mother back in '04. We don't know much else."

The two soldiers nodded. "Is there any treatment? Any way to minimise his pain or slow the illness down?" Mustang asked tensely.

Ms. Rockbell shrugged as she put her pipe in her mouth. "Just symptom management."

The kettle whistled from the other room. She pulled a tin of biscuits out from under the coffee table and set them atop a terribly knitted doily.

"Help yourselves," she said, hurrying away to fetch the kettle.

Hawkeye and Mustang shared a concerned look. This woman was a long-time medical professional. If she said Ed was dying...

Ms. Rockbell re-entered the room with a tray of mugs and tea paraphernalia. She set the tray down and they all set to making their tea.

Once they'd settled back with their tea, Ms. Rockbell got back to business; she listed off the symptoms she knew of, things that helped, things that hindered, and things that may have made a difference for Trisha Elric.

It wasn't much, besides the expected progression of the illness.

Hawkeye had given up on her tea early in the conversation and had traded it for her notebook, into which she scrawled her coded shorthand as fast as she could.

The writing wasn't neat in any sense of the word, and she didn't really absorb anything that was said, but she managed to get all the information down. She could absorb it later.

Time went by swiftly, and suddenly it was ten thirty and Ms. Rockbell was leading them back to the front door.

"Thank you for your time and hospitality, ma'am," Mustang said in his I'm-a-sweet-young-man voice.

Ms. Rockbell rolled her eyes. "Take care of Edward instead of thanking me," she demanded. Her eyes betrayed her, showing not cold indifference to match her expression, but deep gratitude.

Hawkeye and Mustang both gave firm nods. Mustang turned and walked down the front steps once he put his coat on, pausing when Hawkeye didn't follow.

"Lieutenant?" he asked, once he'd turned around.

Hawkeye continued studying Ms. Rockbell, who studied her right back. "Can you think of any way we can support Edward in…" Hawkeye tried to find the words, but found them all caught in her throat.

She tried clearing it, but it didn't work, so she awkwardly made an ambiguous gesture to encompass the entirety of the situation.

Ms. Rockbell's face softened. "Grieve on your own time so when -- not if, when -- he needs you, you can be there for him without making him feel guilty."

Hawkeye gave a small nod. "I can do that," she whispered hoarsely.

"Good," Ms. Rockbell said, quietly closing the door in Hawkeye's face.

Hawkeye allowed herself a few moments to tremble and be upset. Then she took a deep, fortifying breath and cleared her face. The mask wouldn't last long, but she just needed time to get away from the townsfolk.

She turned around and returned to her place by the Colonel's side.

It would be another several hours before their return train would arrive at Resembool, so the Colonel led the way to one of the many hills that overlooked the tiny train station while maintaining distance from others.

The air was crisp with pre-winter chill, so when the two of them sat down on the grassy slope, they made sure to keep their coats underneath themselves to fight off the chill.

One advantage to being atop a hill in an area like Resembool was that one could see any person approaching well before they were even in shouting range.

So Roy and Riza let all their masks fall. Riza leaned against Roy and gave an impressive groan.

"I thought that was my line," Roy said, amusement filling his strained voice.

Riza didn't reply; she just almost-smiled at him.

They sat in silence for several minutes, leaning against each other in quiet support as they processed all that they had heard.

Roy began to tremble, and Riza looked up at him. He was crying, trying to stop himself, but his lip continued to tremble and his shoulders shook with the force of it. 

Riza wrapped a firm arm around his waist and nosed her face awkwardly against his shoulder.

"Let it out while you can," Riza whispered, so quiet Roy wouldn't have heard it if the air hadn't been so still.

Roy made an ugly noise, like he was trying to inhale and exhale at the same time.

Riza's eyes had stopped shedding tears years and years prior, back when Edward was still in diapers. She could still sob, however, and she did. The noises she made were ugly, and her face screwed up horribly. But the second they left Resembool they'd not be able to show true emotion, not for some time, even in their private residences.

So Riza and Roy allowed themselves the messy, loud, gross grief they had. Drippy noses and blotchy cheeks and everything.

How could Edward -- that vibrant, angry, terror of a child -- be dying? After all the hell he'd experienced, how could the world burden him with yet another horrible situation that he could not outrun? One with a set expiration, to boot?

Riza had known that life wasn't fair for quite a long time. But there was a difference between life not being fair and life being  _ unfair _ .

Riza shook her head in disgust at the cruelty of the world.

Some time later, when the sun was past its zenith, and after Roy and Riza had calmed down and wiped their faces off, they headed to the restaurant in the village centre to eat lunch.

It was a quiet affair with few words spoken. Neither were hungry, but they ate anyway. If the food was good, they didn't notice it, so wrapped up in their thoughts were they.

Once they arrived back to their room in Kaumafy from the train, they'd go over what they had learned, their suspicions, and potential plans of action.

They would not,  _ could _ not, let Edward be alone in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, and regardless, I hope to hear from you. I don't feel particularly confident in my phrasing of things after Riza and Roy leave the Rockbell house, so please let me know what you think, and how you feel about it?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think. Hawkeye is _so_ difficult to write, and while i'm pleased, I want to hear from you. And if you want to help out with characterisation on the regular (and get advanced copies of each installation of the series), please [fill out this form](https://forms.app/form/5f52c59166a26237557e02b5). 
> 
> Thank you!


End file.
